Looking
by Rin22
Summary: Things begin to change at the Jeffersonian and relationships take on new meanings. A slight sprinkling of everything to get through the dry period of TV


**I'm still on the Angela/Hodgins bandwagon. I'm slowly getting used to the idea of Booth/Brennan, the show almost has me convinced. But until January 24th (seriously? The 24th?! Who can wait that long???), I must experience everything through fanfic. This was just something that came from one idea and morphed as I wrote it. No exact point, just wrote it to see where it went. So, without further ado…**

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**Looking**

Jack Hodgins leaned his head from one side to the other, attempting to work out the knot that had formed in his neck from sitting in front of a microscope for two hours. He felt a satisfying pop and let out a sigh, sitting back in his chair and shutting off the work light on the equipment. Glancing at his watch, he discovered that it was well past nine. He should have been on his way home much earlier, but there were pressing details in a case Booth had brought to them that needed to be figured out.

Heading to his office, Jack noticed that the lab had nearly emptied with the exception of a few students who were working late on paperwork. He smiled a little, pitying their lowly state in the institution and immensely glad that that particular phase of his life was over. Then again, there were several phases of his life that he was glad were over. Entering his office, he shed his lab coat and reached for his usual hoody and satchel. He mechanically shut down his computer and flipped off the light.

Closing the door, he headed down the hall and shoved his hands into his pockets where he encountered an envelope that had been forgotten. Rolling his eyes to the ceiling, he recalled that he had been "requested" to attend a ball in representation of his family's company. In a small attempt at rebellion, he tightened his fingers around the invitation and crinkled it in dismay. He longed for the day when he could just live a normal life without the family business hanging over his head like a guillotine blade.

As Jack passed Dr. Brennan's office, he glanced in through the glass walls and saw her sitting on the sofa across from Booth who had pulled a chair up, both of them staring intently at the coffee table in between them. Jack would have expected them to be discussing a case, but when he looked closer he saw a chess board set out on the table. He chuckled to himself. Leave it to those two to strike up a game of chess of all things when the day is over. From the look on his face, it appeared as though Booth was having his ass kicked by Brennan.

Jack would have waved a goodnight, but the FBI agent and anthropologist were lost in their own world for the time being. So, on he went down the hall to finally get home to a beer and some late night comedy on TV.

Nearing Angela's office, he could hear classic rock blaring from her stereo system. Not unusual for the artist. Jack knew all too well that she used music to inspire. Sometimes she used it to inspire her art, sometimes to inspire herself. There were a million things he knew about Angela that he had never bothered to know about any other woman. The funny thing was, he never made a specific point of learning these details about her. Being with her over the years had simply taught him how she worked and lived, and by the time he started to fall for her he realized that he already knew this woman almost inside and out.

Everything except how to get to her heart.

Their relationship was floating in a sort of limbo, neither completely friends nor completely lovers. He had stayed at her place, and she at his, but separate beds had been used and physical contact had been kept to a minimal. They had flirted. They had exchanged looks and words that always implied more. He knew she was dedicated to him as a friend, and therefore was fighting a battle within herself about crossing that line. It was all he could do to not shove her across it.

He felt a familiar ache in his chest as he approached her office, prepared to walk bravely past it should she not be in sight. Unfortunately for him, the door was cracked and he caught sight of her sitting at her desk, all the lights off except for the glow from her computer screen. He slowed slightly before thinking that it would be better to get out while he could. Then the music changed.

Instead of the usual rock that often blasted from her office, Jack heard the blues' strains of a muted trumpet and a soft snare drum. He stopped walking and listened. The distinct vocals of Judy Garland drifted from the room. Jack was rooted to the ground.

_The night is bitter_

_The stars have lost there glitter_

_The winds grow colder_

_Suddenly you're older_

_And all because of the man that got away_

_No more his eager call_

_The writing's on the wall_

_The dreams you've dreamed have all gone astray_

Jack's eyes were glued on Angela, her back to him and holding impossibly still. Her hands were clasped tightly on her desk and he could see the tension in her shoulders. He wanted to go to her and release her from whatever it was she was feeling, but he was completely unsure if he was even supposed to be witnessing this. He took a few tentative steps closer to her door, hearing the music swell.

_The man that won you _

_Has run off and undone you_

_That great beginning _

_Has seen a final inning_

_Don't know what happened_

_It's all a crazy game_

_No more that all time thrill_

_For you've been through the mill_

_And never a new love will be the same_

_Good riddance_

_Goodbye_

_Every trick of his, you're onto_

_But fools will be fools_

_And where's he gone to?_

_The road gets rougher_

_It's lonelier and tougher_

Her shoulders finally released, but not with relief. Her body sank into the chair as her hands unclasped and one reached up to wipe at her cheek. Jack swallowed hard – she was crying. He could hear her now, sniffling as she crossed her arms protectively over her chest. He wasn't sure what to think. His ego wanted him to think she was crying over him, but the rational part of his brain knew she could just be having a bad day. Above all else, he knew that the woman he loved was sitting alone, crying in a dark office listening to an angsty power ballad and he wanted to be the one to make her feel better.

_With hope you burn up_

_Tomorrow he may turn up_

_There's just no let up_

_The livelong night and day_

_Ever since this world began_

_There is nothing sadder than_

_A one man woman_

_Looking for the man that got away_

The music faded out on the same melody it had floated in on, and suddenly the hall was silent. Jack realized he was practically standing in her doorway. Before he could wonder if she had sensed him there, she spoke.

"If you're going to stand there, you might as well say something to me," she said, her tone holding more humor than annoyance.

Jack was momentarily speechless.

"New CD?" he asked lamely.

Angela let out a short laugh, taking one last wipe at her eyes to ensure that she had removed any trace of tears, though she was fairly certain he knew she had been crying. However, with her efforts to keep still and quiet, he most likely did not know she had been silently sobbing. It had been a long time since she'd let such a flood of tears stream from her eyes. She'd held back over the last few months, trying to be okay with the choices she had made. But in the span of three short minutes, Judy Garland and the undeniable presence of Jack Hodgins behind her had unraveled any defenses she had left.

Deciding to accept that fact that her eyes were probably all red and puffy and there was no use trying to hide it, Angela stood up to face Jack. He was backlit by the light from the hall. She thanked God she couldn't really see his face. Specifically, those intense blue eyes.

"Brennan still here?" she asked.

"Yeah," Jack said, following her lead at normal conversation. "She and Booth are playing chess in her office. Rather, Brennan is playing chess. Booth is probably just trying to keep his dignity."

"God, how unproductive on a Friday night," Angela commented with a slight grimace. "Is it at least strip chess?"

"Doesn't look like it," Jack told her. "It wouldn't be fair to Booth. He'd be down to his boxers in twenty minutes."

"Honey, I could accomplish that in twenty seconds," Angela teased with her classic smile. Jack couldn't help but smile back.

"I don't doubt it," he agreed suggestively. She laughed, but it quickly died and a very tense silence followed. Angela self-consciously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, slightly embarrassed. Jack glanced down, feeling quite awkward. "Wow, so that was a loaded conversation."

"Yeah, we seem to be having a lot of those lately," she said.

He looked at her, sizing up his chances of discussing a very delicate subject.

"Look, Angela-"

"Jack," she interrupted him. Taking a deep breath, she started talking. "If you think I was sitting in here, drowning myself in self-pity, telling myself what an idiot I've been about this whole thing, then… you're right. I didn't really expect anyone to be around, but what you saw… I feel like…"

"What, Ange?" he pressed her, almost not daring to ask. "Are you – are you having second thoughts?"

"I don't know," she said desperately. "I still hate the thought of what would happen if things went wrong. But-"

"But?" he asked, a hint of a smug smile appearing on his lips.

She caught the smile and gave him a withering look. Opening her mouth to continue, she found that every argument she had for or against their relationship suddenly sounded very foolish. Closing her mouth, she looked at him. Really looked at him. From the expression on his face, she could tell he saw that she was making her decision. It scared him. For the first time in his life, he felt like he was under the microscope.

_The road gets rougher. It's lonelier and tougher_. Angela felt her heart start to quicken as she realized that she had been going about things all wrong. It wasn't about what she wanted. It was about what she _didn't _want. _Ever since the world began, there is nothing sadder than…_

She didn't want this chance to pass her by. She didn't want to spend her nights crying in her office. She didn't want to look back on her life with regret for being afraid.

In a few short strides, Angela had closed the distance between them. Slipping one hand to the base of his neck, she pulled his mouth down to hers and inhaled sharply at the thrill of his kiss as he met her full force, wrapping his arms instinctively around her.

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**Reviews greatly appreciated, especially since I think I will continue this story. I have a little plot brewing now.**


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